


Nightmares In Paradise

by thegaygladers



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Angst, M/M, Spoilers, The Death Cure Spoilers, newtmas - Freeform, newtmas angst, tdc spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 00:35:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5143850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegaygladers/pseuds/thegaygladers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"NO! DON'T GO! NEWT! NEWT!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares In Paradise

_Newt!_  NEWT! No… DON’T GO! DON’T…. GO! NEWT! NEWT!

…

Newt?  _N-ewt?_  Ne…“  
  


_And there they were again, the  tears, the emotion - filled liquid that ran down Thomas’s cheeks as if his eyes were waterfalls._  
  


“Newt… _New- t._..”

  
He clutched his blanket closer, his body shaking in violent spasms.

_His usual nighttime routine._

“Newt…”

The begging echoed, over and over.   
_“Kill me.”_  
The manic shaking, and the yelling. Over and over.  
_“KILL ME!“_  
The inhuman, insane, sickening whisper. He heard it.

##  _Over and over and over._

_“Please Tommy, Please.”_

Cranks watched the view and gunshots like thunderstorms pierced his mind.

_He was gone._  
  


_Had been gone for 3 years.  
_

But somehow, in a way only Newt could have induced, the boy left him again, in the  _same, slow, painful_ way, every night.

_“Newt…”_

Thomas heard Gally and Minho and Siggy shuffle on their beds in the next room, through the thin walls. 

He knew they weren’t asleep, like they liked to pretend.

 _He heard them_   _listening._  
  


Nothing of this was mentioned at daytime, and no real explanation had been given to the other immunes as to why the three boys just would  _not_ sleep in the same room as Thomas.

Minho and Gally and Siggy, they  _understood._  
  


It had taken some time, but now they left him to it.  
  


_They understood._  
  


Though they didn’t know, Thomas was sure they had the fair idea about what had happened, before they had entered the so-called paradise.  
  


He felt their questioning glances on his back sometimes, wondering, trying to figure it out.   
  


_And they didn’t hate him, like he would have if he was in their place._

_He would have ripped them to shreds with his bare hands and he knew it._  
He wouldn’t have spared anyone _. Anyone_  who had laid a hand on his baby.  
_His sunshine._  
  


And maybe that’s what made it worse.   
Being spared, being given the inexplicable forgiveness he knew he didn’t deserve.

_“Ne-wt…”_  
  


He pulled at the bedsheets, and knocked his lamp down.  
_“Newt!”_  
He tore at his hair and scratched at his skin.  
_“Newt!”_  
He was exhausted, like anyone would be, if the only food they took into their system were the occasional spoonfuls of nutritional snacks shoved down their throat. Most of which he puked out.  
He screamed, and screamed, and screamed into his pillow.  
_“Newt…”_  
  


_-“Glad you’re not bloody dead, Tommy.”-_  
“No!  _No! Newt_! I am! I am I am  _I am_ …”  
  


And then soon it was morning again, the sun shone brightly through the curtains. It created a sort of amber light that lit up the room, oddly like Newt’s eyes. 

 _Not as bright as his eyes_ , Thomas thought.

He had no sense of the thought being sappy, or unmanly.It was just a genuine, actual thought.

Soon Brenda would be here, smiling fake - cheerfully and telling Thomas to come have breakfast. He would smile, and tell her to  _go, he’ll be there in a minute._

 _  
_ He would pull out a damaged and dirty red scarf from under his pillow,WICKED inscribed on it with black thread in a corner. 

He would sniff the scarf, and encounter only the smell of blood and dirt, the smell of  _him_  was no longer there. 

But Thomas hoped,  _everyday_ , maybe  _today_ I would be able to smell his scent just _one last time_. 

_Maybe today he would be with me._

He would put it back under the pillow again, gingerly, safe from scrutinizing gazes and sorry faces.   
  


“ _I’m sorry_.”

 


End file.
